


Where Else Would I Go?

by MediocreMosquito



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Barry Allen, Hurt/Comfort, sorry Barry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreMosquito/pseuds/MediocreMosquito
Summary: Set after the events of 2x6." Despite their love for Barry, they each had lives to return to.Except for Cisco, apparently. "





	Where Else Would I Go?

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The Flash, nor am I profiting from this work- but you already know this.  
> Criticism welcome and encouraged. Help me improve!

Upon hearing of Barry’s devastating injury, his family rushed to his side to support him. 

Joe pushed him past his limits, building him up through tough love and the simple act of believing in him.

Iris held his hand and reassured him, doing her best to convince him that everything was going to be okay.

Of course there was Caitlin, who monitored his health with such vigor that Harry had to remind her to sit down and take a break.

Still, Joe and Iris had to go to work, and Caitlin needed just as much sleep as the rest of them. Barry understood this; in fact, he even encouraged it (‘go home and take a shower, Joe, I’m not kidding’). At the end of the day, despite their love for Barry, they each had lives to return to. 

Except for Cisco, apparently. 

He was there when the rest had left STAR Labs, sleeping in his desk chair with his head resting awkwardly on his folded arms. He didn’t mind- it wasn’t his first time dozing off at his work, and things were quiet and peaceful. 

Until he was awoken by an agonized scream and nearly slid off his desk in his panic. By the time he reached Barry’s bedside, the injured man was panting loudly and bordering on hysteria. 

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” Cisco told him, pressing his shoulders back onto the bed to calm his thrashing. Still, he was dazed and perturbed, unable to shake the image of Zoom and the nauseating sound his own back made when it twisted. 

He felt a stab of pain in his back as Cisco reached to pull him to a near sitting position - a good call it turned out - as Barry gagged and tried to hold back from throwing up. Suddenly, there was a plastic bowl in front of him, and he retched into it, each shudder sending waves of pain through his spine. A warm hand reached out to steady him, thought he was too busy turning his stomach inside-out to really notice.

When it finally abided, Barry fell back to the bed with an embarrassing yelp and tried to calm himself down from the fit- still, his breaths were coming short and fast, and he felt like he might vomit all over again (which would be a nightmare without the puke bucket).

Cisco was nearly as panicked as Barry, just by the sight. 

“Dude, dude, you gotta breathe. Shit, deep breaths, okay? In and out,” he urged, and began to slow his own breathing in example. Finally, after what seemed like years, the breaths sounded less like gasping and more like, well, breathing. 

Suddenly it was silent again. Cisco flopped down into the bedside chair, and looked up at Barry with such concern that the man almost laughed.

Almost.

Instead, Barry met his gaze, pushing past the irritation in his throat and whispering “Sorry, Cisco”.

Cisco just cursed again and went to dispose of Barry’s sick. Bed-bound and utterly useless, he closed his eyes and tried to push the terrifying nightmare from his mind, but the image of Zoom’s appearance horrified him still.

When he opened his eyes again, Cisco had returned and was holding a cup of water and a straw to his lips.

“Here- woah, small sips,” he suggested, and pulled back the cup before Barry had finished because he did not want to watch the man throw up again.

“Thanks”, Barry mumbled, embarrassed by his weakness (but too miserable to pay it any mind).

“That was like the time I choked on a grape- except like 10 times worse”, Cisco remarked, though his humor was insincere and he was still uneased by the display.

“Caitlin says that breathing difficulties are normal with a spinal injury,” Barry commented, as if Cisco wasn’t there to witness the pure fear he exuded after the nightmare- as if there was any chance his friend would believe this was normal.  
“Are you okay?”

Barry glared at his friend, because no, a broken back is not okay, but the sheer prospect of the question made it impossible to keep back from laughing, and when Cisco’s face twisted with worry because everything seems insane, Barry snickered just a little harder.

Then he coughed weakly and tried to contain himself.

Cisco did not find any of it funny- and when Barry tried to sit up and cried out in pain, he didn’t find that funny either.

“I’m gonna puke”, he said urgently, but that was already established by the look on his face that Cisco had, unfortunately, gotten to know quite well.

Barry heard a faint “Got it!” before Cisco returned, this time with a plastic bag, and Barry dry-heaved before spitting up bile and fuck, it’s all just exhausting.

“Hey”, he called, after his friend had left his line of vision, limited by his neck brace and the shooting pain that visited him every time he tried to turn his head. 

The following footsteps sounded far too urgent, so he specified: “I’m fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

His heart constricted at this question, and he nearly blurted out ‘haven’t I already gotten more than I deserve?’ The hand on his shoulder tightened from his lack of reply, rousing him back to question. 

“You should go home, Cisco,” he managed. The two made eye contact for a brief second tense with worry.

The laughter that followed was so welcome, so familiar, so genuine that Barry’s heart ached.

“No way, dude”, Cisco responded, “you’re a mess. Plus, where else would I go?- my best friend is here”.


End file.
